A Little Bit of Stress Relief
by Ad Absurdum
Summary: Cheesy part-smut part-crack. Written for the tronkinkmeme prompt: Tron spanking Alan.


_**Time frame:**__ Pre-Legacy, before Clu was created.**  
Disclaimer:**__ Characters not mine. No profit made._

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**A Little Bit of Stress Relief**

Alan sighed with relief as he materialised in the messy basement of an office inside the Grid's equivalent of Flynn's Arcade. The ambient, bluish light soothed his eyes and after being cooped up in his Encom office all day, and most of it spent trying to convince prospective investors that yes, they were a reliable company, the Grid was a welcome change.

"Greetings, Alan_1."

Alan turned, smiling at the familiar voice.

"Hi, Tron."

Tron stepped closer and Alan marvelled anew at the sheer miracle of seeing a program he once wrote standing before him in flesh. He'd always known that AI was a distinct possibility, but he'd never thought it would be something like this.

"You didn't have to come. I can find my own way into the City by now," Alan said in a gently reproachful tone. "You must have a lot of work with the City growing bigger every day."

Tron clasped his hands behind his back.

"That's true, but I couldn't miss the opportunity of meeting my user. Besides, it's better that I escort you. You never know if the gridbugs won't decide to pop up right under your feet."

Then Tron glanced to the side as if slightly embarrassed. "Your visits aren't too frequent and it's been at least a few hundred cycles since I saw you last."

Alan took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Believe me, Tron, I'd love to come here more often, but Encom's a busy place right now."

"No no, I didn't mean to complain. I understand you have a lot of work." Tron looked at his user sheepishly. "But I can see you don't look well."

Alan raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, you look stressed. Overworked," Tron added and decided shutting up right about now would be a great idea.

"Well, someone's got to work when Flynn insists on missing nearly every single board meeting. And if he does show up, he has this spaced out look and you just know he doesn't hear a word you're saying," Alan grumbled. "I can't exactly blame him, now that I know what's on his mind, but that doesn't make running Encom any easier."

"You should take a break, allow yourself to recharge for a few cycles," Tron said in a worried tone.

Alan sighed and shook his head. "I can't. Not right now. Maybe later when our financial situation stabilises once again."

"How much later will that be?" Tron was frowning slightly.

"Next year?" Alan wasn't too sure, but he hoped to God next year was going to be better.

Tron's eyes widened as he calculated the time. Some cycles ago Alan_1 explained the concept of years and months to Tron and now the program found the thought of his user not getting any rest for so long simply unacceptable.

"Alan_1, I find your lack of regard for your own health disturbing."

"What?" Alan didn't expect _that_.

"Regular cycles of relaxation are important to users," Tron said in a lecturing tone. "I have seen your medical records and in my opinion you need a vacation."

"Wait a moment." Alan put his hands on his hips and stared at the program. "Did you just say you saw my medical records? How?"

Tron fidgeted a little. "I found an access path from the Grid to the Encom system. Which I immediately secured," he added, seeing his user's glare.

"What I mean," he continued lifting up his chin confidently, the light of absolute conviction shining in his eyes, "is that you need to take better care of yourself. And I'm going to make sure that you will."

He stepped closer, somehow managing to loom over Alan despite the fact that they both were of exactly the same height.

Alan was speechless. It was true that with Lora away more often than not, he did tend to be a bit of a workaholic, but _that_ was just too much.

"Now, see here—"

He jabbed his finger into Tron's chest, but before he could say another word, Tron spoke again.

"Please, don't argue with me, Alan_1. You know very well that with a stressful job like yours, you need to release the tension sometimes."

"But that's why I come here, to take my mind off Encom business, to relax."

Tron smirked slightly at that and Alan blinked.

"That is correct." Tron's smirk grew and there was a decidedly wicked glint in his eye.

"Take off your pants."

"What?" Alan was sure he didn't hear that right.

"Take. Off. Your. Pants," Tron repeated slowly.

He was a security program and to protect was one of his primary functions. Since he couldn't very well protect Alan_1 in the users' world, Alan_1 would have to do it for himself, but apparently his user needed a better understanding of the issue. Fortunately Tron just knew how to drive the point home.

The program sighed as he saw his user made absolutely no move to comply with the request.

"I see we're gonna have to do it the hard way." Tron tsked.

Alan stepped back. He finally gathered his wits about him enough to remember he could actually move.

"Tron, what are you planning to do?" he asked warily.

Tron smiled. "Teach you a lesson."

And before Alan could take another step back, he was caught around the waist, turned and when Tron sat down, Alan found himself lying across Tron's knees, with his face a few inches from the floor.

By some miracle his glasses stayed on, but now that it didn't look as if Alan could talk himself out of the situation any longer, he thought it might be better to put them somewhere safer.

He took them off, folded and carefully slid along the floor out of harm's way. He also tried to surreptitiously slip out of Tron's grasp and possibly out of his reach, but his wriggling brought absolutely no result. The program made a slightly displeased sound and held Alan down with no effort whatsoever.

Alan gulped. He forgot programs were so much stronger than humans.

"Tron, what—"

Alan didn't get to finish his question, sucking instead a sharp breath as he felt Tron's hand gliding over the seat of his pants. That were thankfully still on. He tried wriggling again and received a sharp pinch for his efforts.

"Ow." Alan jerked and craning his neck as best as he could, glared over his shoulder. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing you wouldn't enjoy, Alan_1."

Alan had his doubts. Especially when he saw Tron produced from somewhere a device that looked remarkably like a knife. It also had a glowing red edge.

"Whoa, wait a second." Alan squirmed in earnest now, trying to get away. With the same overwhelming lack of success as before. "There's no need for bloodshed."

Shit, as soon as he was free, he'd have to take a look at Tron's code. Maybe something got corrupted to cause all this.

Tron heaved a put-upon sigh. "I am quite aware there's no need for bloodshed." He placed the tip of the knife on the belt holding Alan's pants up. "This is merely to remove your clothes. Which I did ask you to take off. Twice."

The knife sliced through the belt.

"Wait. I'm not going back bare-assed." Alan gritted his teeth and unzipped his pants. He'd definitely have to check Tron's coding and by God, if he found someone tampered with it, he was gonna kill them.

He pushed his pants down awkwardly, balancing his weight on Tron's knees.

"What now? you gonna spank me?" The last-ditch attempt at laughing the whole situation off fell flat as Alan heard Tron hum approvingly.

"Precisely."

The humiliation made Alan blush ten shades of red and he bit his lip. Well, at least he still had his shirt and underwear on.

That comforting thought vanished, though, when Tron hooked his fingers around the elastic band of Alan's boxers and in one quick move dragged them down to somewhere around Alan's knees. The shirt was flipped out of the way and the cool not-quite air of the Grid touched Alan's bare ass.

He closed his eyes. God help him but he was in the clutches of a crazed computer program and completely helpless to do anything about it.

Tron meanwhile gazed appreciatively at his user's anatomy. There was only one word for it: exquisite. Usually so fastidiously covered by the normal user clothes or a Grid suit (which despite its tight, form-fitting cut didn't really reveal that much) it was finally exposed to Tron's hungry eyes and the program took his time to appreciate the moment to the fullest.

He ran his hand over the sweet valleys and curves of Alan's lower back and ass and then squeezed gently one perfect cheek. So firm, so smooth. The muscles tensing under Tron's hand, made the two adorable dimples in those cheeks even more visible and the program smiled fondly. He was proud he took after such a handsome figure.

Tron sighed. As delightful as this contemplation was, he had a job to do. He patted lovingly the pale, vulnerable half-moons and when Alan wriggled again, Tron forcefully brought his hand down. A loud smack reverberated around the office and Alan yelped.

Tron didn't loosen his hold even a fraction. "Stop complaining, Alan_1."

Another smack was dealt to Alan's butt, the fair skin quickly turning rosy. "It's for your own good."

And another smack.

"You need to understand—"

Tron aimed two slaps at the underside of each cheek.

"That taking a vacation once in a while—"

A little higher now, Tron's palm lingering as he briefly rubbed the abused flesh.

"Is necessary."

The spanking was delivered with measured precision, but with enough force for Alan to feel the stinging pain of the blows.

He squirmed in Tron's lap, panting and biting his lip to stifle his moans.

"Programs need rest—"

Tron carried on, the sound of his hand meeting naked skin and the muscled cushions of Alan's behind, loud in the small room.

"And users certainly need it too."

The final smack was dealt and Tron left his hand in place, carefully massaging the thoroughly reddened object of his erstwhile wrath. Alan groaned pitifully.

"Come on. Up." Tron helped Alan get to his feet, never stopping his gentle touches. He smoothed his palms over Alan's hips and then slid his fingers up under the shirt to brush over his ribs. Then down again, his fingertips trailing over Alan's back, the soft leather-like material of the armour's gloves making his user shiver.

Alan stood between Tron's splayed legs, completely flushed, hair dishevelled and so aroused it was almost painful. The head of his hard dick peeked shyly from between the flaps of his shirt, droplets of pre-come leaking from the tip.

Tron kept stroking Alan's ass and the back of his thighs, eyeing the stiff organ a couple of inches from his face with certain pride. His lips curved in a smile and he looked up.

"Do you want something, Alan_1?"

Alan's breath came faster and he wetted his lips, his tongue flickering out and licking them in an unconscious gesture.

"Yes." There was quiet desperation in Alan's voice.

"Say it."

Alan was still blushing, but didn't look away from Tron's eyes. "Suck me."

Tron's circuits pulsed brighter and his smile widened.

"Anything you wish, Alan_1."

He undid the last two buttons of Alan's shirt, Alan hurriedly unbuttoning the rest, and nuzzled his user's belly. He'd always found the lack of circuits and the light trail of hair leading to Alan's groin quite fascinating. Oh, and that small dip of his navel too. Tron swirled his tongue inside, enjoying how it made Alan squirm.

With a quiet moan Alan gripped the program's shoulders and half-derezzed his armour, revealing the circuits hidden beneath, now flushed bright violet. He moved his hands over the top of Tron's shoulders to the back of his neck, teasing the sensitised circuits along the way. Then he slipped his fingers into Tron's hair and gently pushed his head lower.

Tron went with the motion and eagerly swiped his tongue over the tip of Alan's cock, tasting pre-come. Both of them groaned at the sensation - pleasure raced up Alan's spine while the energy rush, even from such a small taste, made Tron's circuits flare brighter.

After that there was no more teasing. Alan's knees buckled as the program licked and sucked him hungrily and only Tron's firm grip on Alan's hips kept him upright. The involuntary thrust of his hips was also carefully controlled, allowing him only the slightest movement, and Alan groaned again, this time in frustration.

Tron flicked a mischievous glance up at his user and sucked harder, enjoying how the pleasure made Alan's head fall back, exposing the graceful line of his throat. Even though right now Tron wasn't in the best position to fully appreciate the sight, it was burned into his data banks and he felt his circuitry pulse brighter still at the remembered image and its sheer beauty.

Alan moaned again. Tron could feel his user was close. Alan's breathing came in harsh gasps and the grip he had on Tron's hair tightened, muscles under Tron's hands going taut. Tron clutched Alan's ass, his fingers most likely leaving bruises, and swallowed his cock to the hilt.

Alan didn't last long. It was only a few seconds before his back arched and he came moaning Tron's name.

The program swallowed as best as he could and as the energy rush hit his system, he overloaded in a brilliant display of violet, his circuits bright and hot.

Alan slumped over him, his elbows resting on Tron's shoulders as the program still held him upright.

"Let me sit down," Alan patted one of Tron's hands on his hip, still panting a little.

The program loosened his grip and Alan came to rest on his knees, between Tron's spread legs. He nuzzled the side of Tron's face, his hands wandering over the warm circuits of Tron's back and sides and then kissed he corner of the program's mouth. "Thank you. I really needed that."

"I know." Tron angled his head and found Alan's lips with his own.

The kiss was languid and wet, Alan pushing his tongue inside Tron's mouth and tasting faint traces of his own come. They were reluctant to part, nipping and licking at each other's lips, even as they finally broke the intimate connection.

"It was my pleasure, Alan_1," Tron murmured, smiling.

Alan slouched to sit more comfortably, resting his head on Tron's thigh and making no effort whatsoever to get dressed again.

"We don't have to move yet, right?" he asked, closing his eyes.

"No." Tron stroked his user's hair. "I've secured the perimeter."

"Good." Alan nuzzled a circuit under his cheek. "I want us to stay like this a little longer."


End file.
